


You Can't Go Home Again

by Starb_uck



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Cruelty, Dark, F/F, Gags, Interrogation, Sadism, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starb_uck/pseuds/Starb_uck
Summary: Starbuck: "It was just something my father used to play"..What if the Cylons didn't believe her?





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dark. This one is dark dark dark! Read at your own risk if you care to, and please no grottiness. Thanks!
> 
> Title just seemed to fit. Of course I don't own anything.

Kara came back to herself groggily. 

She stirred, moaned slightly as her body registered a strange constriction in her movements. She moved more determinedly and her eyelids flickered. She blinked. Her hair was in her eyes and she moved to bring up a hand to brush it back. Her arm wouldn't move. She shook her head instead and opened her eyes. Was she sick? She didn't remember how she'd gotten here, wherever here was. No, not med bay. She looked at her surroundings. 

Looked like some kind of storage bay, piles of equipment lying around, most of it looked like it hadn't been used in a while. Everything was covered in a layer of dust. She couldn't see anybody around. The bay was very quiet. She blinked, slowly, confused. Where the hell was she, and how had she got here? She tried to bring her arms up again and still couldn't. She looked down. She was sitting in a chair. In the middle of a deserted, empty storage bay where she'd never been before. Feeling the first stirrings of alarm, Kara pulled harder on her arms. They still wouldn't move, and she felt a sudden biting pain in both of her wrists. She gave a huff of pain and stopped the movement. 

Okay. Legs, then. Let's see what's going on here. They seemed to be tucked under the chair somehow. She tried to straighten them out, to get the purchase necessary to stand up, but they obeyed her no more than had her arms. She stilled for a moment, as the alarm she felt threatened to move into actual fear. Frustration and alarm came together to make her jerk her whole body suddenly, in an attempt to make it obey her. She only managed to achieve a resurgence of that sharp pain in her wrists, now joined by a matching one in her ankles. She groaned. She hadn't managed to move an inch. Fully awake now, and breathing starting to hitch in panic, Kara finally let herself accept the obvious. She was shackled firmly to a chair in a place where nobody ever came, and she had no idea who'd put her there, or why. 

Trying to stave off rising panic, she tried to think about the situation logically. What the frak was going on here? Had she passed out after some almighty card session? Was this some pilot's idea of a joke? She tried to call up the last thing she could remember. It was a struggle, but she finally caught a dim recollection of leaving the bar after the conversation with the piano player. Yeah, that's right, after she'd played that song with him, that song that'd stirred up the Cylons for some frakked up reason she had no idea about. They'd surrounded her, demanded answers she didn't have. And then, when she was walking slowly back to her quarters, hiccuping every so often, hadn't a door opened, and someone beckoned her in? Yes, that's right.. It'd been Ellen Tigh. Starbuck had had no idea what the XO's wayward wife had wanted with her, but she remembered thinking that she'd be sure to have booze. Starbuck wanted more booze, and the bars were shut. So when Ellen had invited her in for a drink, Starbuck had entered the room without hesitation. 

And then what had happened? Kara shook her head, trying to clear her foggy brain. Her head hurt. She remembered being offered a drink, remembered it tasting funny... And then after that, nothing. Until now. 

Starbuck tried moving again, more tentatively this time. Still no joy. Her arms were fixed behind her with what felt like steel restraints, holding her fast to the chair. They were forced somehow through the back of the chair, in an unnatural position that was already starting to make her whole upper body ache. Her legs.. she couldn't see them, but they appeared to be shackled underneath the chair somehow, drawn up in a kind of quasi-kneeling position and held fast so that she could get no purchase with her feet on the floor. She tried to move the chair itself and failed completely, although she wasn't sure what good it would do even if she were able to tip the damned thing onto its side. She was frakked. As she realised this, panic threatened all at once to swamp her. She fought it back, breathing hard but still in control. She forced her voice to remain steady as she called out into the silent bay. 

"Hello? Is anybody there? Hello? Anybody?" 

There was no answer. Forgetting the restraints in her sudden frustration and anger, she gave another full body jerk, as if rage itself would be enough to make the chair let her go. It didn't of course, and she cried out again as the unrelenting cuffs dug in tightly around her wrists and ankles. The cry hitched into an almost-sob, and this time she received an answer of sorts to her question. It came from behind her, and it didn't come in the form of words. It was a soft laugh. 

It was Ellen Tigh and Tory Foster. Of course it was. She remembered now how Tory had appeared from nowhere after she'd downed her first drink from Ellen's bottle. She remembered asking where she'd come from, but already her tongue wasn't working properly and her voice wasn't working properly. She remembered putting her tongue out, squinting at it, trying to work out if it was broken and how she could fix it. She remembered trying to grab it with both hands so she could examine it properly, but she couldn't seem to catch it. She remembered them laughing at her, even as the room began to blur and the two women became four, and six, and twelve..

"Hello, Captain". 

"Ellen. What.. what do you want?" She kept her voice steady with an effort. The older woman smiled. 

"What do I want? I want to know what you know about that song you were playing tonight, and about what it means. I want to know everything you know about what's going on, because it's obvious that you're not telling the whole truth". 

She bent to crouch before Starbuck's chair, smiling up at her with her arms dangling loose from her knees. 

"I also think that if you do tell anyone what you know, it'll be the Admiral, or his brat, and that it's for damned sure they won't share that information with us". 

Ellen stood up, still smiling, and moved around behind the chair. Tory circled forwards from the opposite side, and Starbuck automatically switched her gaze to the younger woman. 

"We think that this information is extremely important, and that by rights it should lie with the final Five. *Not, with the humans, who have repeatedly proven themselves unreliable and untrustworthy. We are the future, Captain. Cylons are the future, *not humanity, and we believe that the information you possess will help us to fulfil our destiny, without you".

Ellen circled back round to join Tory, still smiling. Both women stared down at the immobile officer who looked back, dumbstruck by what she'd just heard. 

"So. Care to share, Captain?"

Starbuck looked at them both, speechless. She literally could not think of one single thing to say. She swallowed, tried to choose her words carefully. They were both mad, of course. It was clearly the only explanation. She'd have to tread carefully with them, but at the same time they had to realise, as soon as possible, that she had no frakking idea what they were talking about. 

"Uhh.. sorry to disappoint, and all, but.. I don't have any secret knowledge. That was just a song my father used to play.." She laughed shakily. "I'm kinda searching for answers of my own at the moment, know what I mean?"

"Oh, come now, Captain. That won't do. That won't do at all. You need to realise that we're serious about this. It was a lot of effort, a lot of risk, to get you here, you know. I'm going to get my answers from you, believe me".

Starbuck stared at Ellen, the panic threatening again to spill out from under her careful control. 

"But, frak it, I'm telling you I don't *have any secret knowledge! How can I tell you what I don't know??"

Ellen turned to Tory, a mock look of disappointment on her face. 

"It seems we'll have to give Captain Thrace a demonstration of just how serious we are, Tory. If you'd be so good.."

Tory's dark eyes flashed and her lips curved into a dangerous smile. 

"Certainly". 

She moved around behind Starbuck as the pilot twisted in the chair, automatically trying to get away. 

"What are you doing?? I'm telling you I don't know anything! What are you going to.. aaaahh!!"

She cried out suddenly and bucked in the chair, her face twisted in sudden pain. The Cylon had seized her hands and pulled them sharply upwards so that the metal of the cuffs dug savagely into her already damaged wrists. She gasped, panting, feeling the waves of pain subside. She stared at Ellen, panting sharply. Tory's hands still held her own, and again she tried in vain to pull away, knowing that the pain could return at any moment. Ellen smiled at her. 

"So you see, we *are going to get that information, Captain. One way or another. I suggest you start talking".

"I'm telling you, I don't *KNOW anything!!" Starbuck screamed. "GODS!! I.." She broke off again with another cry of pain, this one almost a scream. Tory held her wrists upwards for longer this time, grinding in circles with sadistic rhythm. When she finally let up, Starbuck slumped helplessly in the chair, her face grey. 

Ellen moved forwards and smoothed her hair from her forehead. 

"Come on, Captain. Don't make it harder than it has to be. Tell us what the song means. Tell us whatever it was that Sam told you. I always hated that he was closer to you than to any of us. That just never seemed.. *appropriate, somehow". 

Starbuck shifted painfully in the chair. "My.. father... used to play that song.." she gasped out. "That's all I know.. honestly.." 

Ellen tsked at her. "Not good enough, Captain. I haven't got time to listen to your lies". 

She nodded once again at Tory and the younger woman hauled once again on the hands she held. Starbuck screamed this time, and Ellen slapped her sharply across the face. The scream was cut off abruptly as the pilot stared at her in shock. 

"Tell me". 

The full lips opened and Ellen saw tears threaten in those enigmatic eyes, usually so full of fun and cockiness, now staring at her with shock and pain. And fear. 

Fear was good. Ellen could work with fear. She slapped Starbuck again, and thrilled to see blood appear on her lower lip. 

"Tell me". 

She hit her again, and again, and again, delighting as she saw the blood begin to ooze onto the pilot's chin. 

"Tell me". 

"I... can't.." 

Tears were leaking down Starbuck's face now, and she cringed helplessly to escape each blow as it fell. From behind her, Tory shifted impatiently. "

I want a go!" 

Her voice was petulant, like a child's, and Ellen paused long enough to glance up at her, smiling. She'd learned enough about her fellow Cylon in the time they'd been working together, to know that she particularly enjoyed assignments of this nature. Always volunteered for projects where a certain level of.. *coercion might be required. 

"Come on then". 

***

Starbuck slumped heavily in her chair. She'd lost all track of time a while ago and now sagged to one side, helpless to hold her head upright on her shoulders. Her face felt strange, hot, not like her own. When she moved her lips, they seemed to be too big for her face. She only seemed to be able to see out of one eye; the other one was swollen shut. Her fingers throbbed with a glassy agony. She thought dimly that several of them, probably all of them, were broken. 

They'd carried on hitting her for a long, long time. Asking their stupid, frakking, unanswerable questions. She started screaming uncontrollably at one point, thrashing backwards and forwards in her bindings, yelling over and over again that she didn't know, didn't know, didn't know... Tory had grabbed her hair with one hand, her nose with the other, pushed her thumb up into the nostril and pinched her nail into flesh with brutal force. Starbuck had shrieked with the pain of it. 

"Shut up", Tory had told her coldly, pinching harder. 

Starbuck subsided, moaning and shaking, tears trickling down her face. It was around this point that she'd begun begging them to stop. Once she'd started, that was difficult to stop too, the words repeating over and over again, sounding muffled although she didn't know if it were her mouth or her ears that was to blame for that. 

"Please.. please don't.. oh please stop..."

Then they'd started in on her fingers. 

***

"It's late, Tory. We're going to have to wrap this up for tonight. Saul'll be back from his best buddy's soon, and I don't want him asking questions about where I've been. He'd never agree to these.. persuasive methods, I think we both know that". 

Tory reached out and gripped Ellen's shoulder with affection. 

"I know. It's always been just the two of us with enough backbone to take on the most.. *unpleasant tasks, to do what needs to be done, hasn't it? Although," she stopped and her expression soured slightly, "They've always been happy enough to share in the knowledge we obtain, haven't they?" 

The older woman covered her hand with her own. "Yes dear, although we don't always share the source with them, do we? As will be the case here". 

Both women turned to survey the semiconscious pilot. All her thrashing and fighting had failed to free her in the slightest from the chair that held her in a Titan's grip. Her breathing was harsh in the quiet bay. Somewhere in the distance water dripped from a loose seal. 

"You said this place was secure, right? Nobody's got any reason to come down here?"

"Yes. It was sealed off some time ago. Something to do with that pile of junk over there.." Ellen gestured without interest at a pile of containers against the far wall. "I got the info from plans Saul left lying around one night. He can be so.. *careless, sometimes". 

They laughed together. The sound brought another tear to seep from Starbuck's left eye and creep unnoticed down her cheek. 

"But it isn't completely sound proof, however. It'll keep most things in, but if she gets screaming in the middle of the night, when everything else is quiet, somebody might hear something. We ought to do something about that".

Tory turned to look once more at Starbuck. Her eyes glinted with malice. 

"I could always cut that filthy tongue out of her head", she spat at the pilot. "In fact, that seems like a good idea at the moment, what with all the names she called me tonight.." Ellen laughed. 

"No, dear. We need her to talk, remember?" 

"She doesn't necessarily need to be able to talk", Tory sneered, moving towards Starbuck with measured, precise steps. Her heels clicked loudly on the steel floor, each sound seeking to echo around the empty walls. Starbuck had come to herself enough to catch the tail end of their conversation, and she began to twist uselessly in the shackles that held her to the chair. She moaned in denial. 

"We can give her paper and a pen, can't we? When she's ready to.. communicate? At least, I assume she can write? Do they teach those stupid frakking Viper jocks how to write, in between teaching them how to blow things up, treat people like shit and generally how to be complete, arrogant, *frakwits?" She was very close to the cringing pilot now. 

Ellen laughed again. "Tory, Tory, Tory. I can see I'm going to have to keep a careful eye on you. There's plenty of time to get this little bitch talking. She'll be talking her nasty little head off soon enough, I promise you that". 

Tory laughed. She didn't seem all that disappointed. 

"Fair enough. I don't mind if it takes a bit longer. I don't mind in the least". She gave Starbuck a feral smile. Starbuck whimpered. 

"Anyway", Ellen continued, "I don't think she can manage much writing right now, even if she were inclined to be more cooperative than she's demonstrated so far this evening. Not after what you did to her fingers". They laughed again, the moment turning into a giggling fit, two friends sharing a joke over a bottle of wine and some canapés. 

"Her.. frakking... fingers.." Tory gasped, giggling hysterically. 

Ellen turned to a bag lying behind the chair. Starbuck couldn't see what was going on, but she heard a zipper being undone, and rummaging, and then an exclamation of triumph. She saw Tory's eyes light up at whatever she saw behind her, saw her face break into a delighted expression. 

"Oh, Ellen!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I like it!! It's perfect!" 

Starbuck heard Ellen giggle softly behind her. 

"I think so, too. She'll be able to breath around it, which is probably a good thing, given the mess you've made of her face..."

"Me??" Tory squeaked in mock outrage. "I think you had a fair hand in that as well, Ellen Tigh!!" They laughed together again. 

Dimly, Starbuck had the sudden cold thought that they were both completely insane. She was captured by madwomen. What the *frak was she going to do?

Right now, there really wasn't anything that she *could do, anything at all. Ellen moved back into her field of vision. Starbuck remained facing forwards, trembling. She really didn't want to see what the XO's crazy wife held in her hands. She saw it soon enough, however, as it was dangled in front of her face. 

"See this, Starbuck?" Ellen taunted. "If you won't talk for me, you won't talk for anybody else. You can sit here, quietly, and think about all the things you want to tell me, tomorrow". 

Starbuck heard Tory laughing as the ball gag descended towards her face.


	2. 2

No way of telling how much time had passed. Starbuck lay in a haze of pain, an agonised moan occasionally making its muffled way past the rubber ball in her mouth. She hated the way it held her aching jaws apart, hated the way she was helpless to stop herself drooling past it. The spittle dripped with maddening regularity onto her throat. Her body pulsed with a regular grinding ache, agonising cramps caused by her restricted position. Her broken fingers hurt worse than anything she'd ever known. Since they'd left her, she'd strained against the chains that held her until her wrists were raw and her arms were screaming at her in bloody agony. She was still now, her breathing having steadied from harsh grunts of effort to hitched, painful huffs of defeat. Tears leaked steadily from her eyes to join the spittle and blood on her chest and face. 

She didn't know if it had been an hour, or twelve hours, or two days, when the grinding sound of the hatch opening cut through her misery. She jerked in the chair, eyes snapping wide and her heart rate sky rocketing. Was this rescue, or was it the return of pain? She couldn't see, the door was behind her. She cried out regardless, trying to force as much noise as possible past the awful gag in her mouth. She heard no answering shouts of horror, heard nobody running towards her, no one crying out for a med team. Her heart seemed to sink right through the floor, right through all Galactica's many, many levels, out into the barren wastes of space, to freeze and die. Pain, then. The muffled cries tailed off into whimpers. She heard laughter from behind her as the hatch clanged shut. 

"Good morning, Captain. Are you ready to play some more?" 

She moaned as two sets of heels clicked softly towards her. 

"Feeling more talkative today, by any chance? I thought a night wearing that nice gag might.. loosen your lips, as it were…" 

Ellen trailed off deliberately as Tory laughed again. The sound was cut off as they reached the chair. Starbuck heard a squeal of disgust from the former presidential aide. 

"Oh my god, Ellen!! She's pissed herself!! Eeewww! That is just.. so.. *gross!!! Look at the dirty frakking puddle under her chair!!"

Starbuck heard the words but couldn't believe at first that they were true. She thought about it, registered the fact that her pants were wet, and clammy against her skin. It was true. At some point in the night, she'd pissed herself, and she hadn't even noticed. Starbuck felt a rough wave of shame roll over her. 

"So she has. The filthy little whore". 

Ellen sounded royally pissed, her voice icy cold and snapping like a whip. 

"Get the pressure hose". Starbuck heard Tory's heels clicking rapidly away from her. 

No. She didn't want the pressure hose. Didn't want anything to do with the pressure hose. She whimpered in her bonds. Ellen bent close to look into her face, taking care to stand outside the spreading puddle beneath the chair. 

"You dirty bitch". Her eyes flashed contempt. 

Starbuck felt a moment of outrage- what the frak had they expected her to do?? If you tie a woman to a godsdamned chair and keep her there for hours on end, what do you think's gonna happen, for frak's sake?? 

Ellen must have seen the defiance in her eyes, as her curled lip twisted slowly up into an unpleasant smile. 

"Something to say, Starbuck? It'd better be something that I want to hear, today". She turned as Tory returned with the hose. 

"Thank you, dear. Is the pressure up?" 

"Yep. Ready to go". 

"Perfect. Now. Stand back. You don't want any of this filthy pilot piss on your nice clothes, do you?"

***

Water. Water everywhere. Painwater. Waterpain. Hurt. Hurt everywhere...

The jets left her gasping. They hurt so much they forced her to move against them, to try again to escape, which forced more pain onto a body already pushed almost to breaking point. She tried to cry out, to make it stop, and water forced its way up her nose, into her mouth past the gag. She was drowning. The jet was redirected to between her legs, and her grunts took on a new level of pain and outrage. Frak, that hurt. How could they *do this?? The jets returned to her breasts, her throat, her face. Barely able to move, she found herself in the bizarre position of drowning sitting upright in a chair. Her eyes flickered, beginning to roll backwards in her head. Ellen shut off the hose. 

"Aww, no fair! I didn't get a go!" 

Gods, Tory was a whiny little bitch, Starbuck thought, even through her drifting consciousness. 

"Don't bitch, Tory. You can have a turn on the hose tomorrow". 

*Tomorrow?? Starbuck's mind screamed out in horror. There was no way she would still be here, in this chair, this time tomorrow! Was there? She didn't think her brain could stand another day of torture like yesterday. She literally thought her mind would give out before her body. And it wasn't even as if she was keeping anything back.. she just quite simply had nothing to tell them that they wanted to hear, but they weren't interested in that truth. 

At some point in the long night behind her, she'd wondered to herself if they actually believed she had info and was holding out on them, or if that was just a convenient peg on which they could hang their mutual torture hat. She hadn't come to a satisfactory conclusion, although now, looking at their eager, flushed faces, she thought that maybe the answer was a little bit of both. 

Ellen stepped forwards gingerly over the damp floor. Starbuck could hear the water trickling merrily into a maintenance drain in the far corner. She wished miserably that she could follow it. She winced as the woman fumbled with the gag at the back of her head, finally loosening the straps. Starbuck's mouth was completely numb; she couldn't even feel the ball wedging her jaws open any more, much less push it out. Ellen had to ease it from her mouth, making a moue of disgust as she did so. 

"*Dirty girl", she repeated, holding the straps of the gag between two outstretched fingers and flinging it into a nearby puddle. 

Starbuck made no effort to speak, merely moved her mouth and tongue slowly, carefully, trying to get them working properly again. She eyed the woman before her, waiting resignedly for whatever would come next, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was beyond surprised, therefore, when the Cylon moved to crouch behind the chair. A jerk, a sudden loosening of pressure, and she felt the dead lumps that used to be her feet hit the deck in front of her. She gasped. More was to come, and Starbuck sat disbelieving as she heard the woman fumbling with the shackles on her wrists. She couldn't feel anything worth a damn, though, and when Tory moved to assist in working her useless arms out from the slats of the chair, she had the crazy thought that this was kinda like how it felt to be in the dentist's chair. When you had a tooth out. It had only happened to her once, a wisdom tooth that was growing the wrong way or something like that, but she vividly remembered the sense of tugging going on, of forces at work on her body even though she couldn't feel a thing. Difference was that dentists, although undoubtably utter bastards to a man, generally had the patient's best interests at heart. These crazy bitches, on the other hand... 

"Move your frakking *arm, you stupid bitch!!" Tory hissed at her. 

"I.. can't.." Kara was panting. She was trying to help, she really was, but she couldn't even feel her limbs, much less make them obey her commands. She felt Tory grab her by the hair to gain purchase, and she hauled. Kara moaned with the pain of it, but felt herself slipping forwards as her arm pulled finally free. She was utterly helpless to do anything for herself and neither of her tormentors moved to break her fall. She slid sideways to the soaking wet floor. 

Then the pain started in earnest. And neither Ellen nor Tory had to do a thing. They simply watched in avid fascination as Captain Kara Thrace, hotshot pilot extraordinaire, flapped in spasmic motions on the floor, emitting great gusting gasps of agony as the circulation returned to her abused limbs. The pins and needles were almost unbearable, and Kara thought again that she would surely go completely insane, before finally, *finally, the pain began to recede. Her manic movements began to recede, and her breathing slowed. Her brain stopped panicking that it couldn't take any more of this, that it was dying, that she had to *do something, and allowed her once again to think. 

Why was nobody looking for her? Why had nobody found her yet? Starbuck had forgotten in her misery that she was on a rostered two day break from duty, and she also had no idea that Ellen was fully aware of this, again from sneaking peeks at her husband's paperwork. Nobody would look for her until she was due back two days from now - they'd assume she was holed up somewhere, frakking some nugget to death. 

"Two days until they start looking for you, Captain". Starbuck rolled her eyes to see Ellen standing over her, echoing her own thoughts and conclusions. "Lots we can achieve in two days".

***

Starbuck stood on her tiptoes. Had no choice; her wrists were bound again, this time in thick leather cuffs attached to a rope overhead. The rope looped over a pulley mechanism in the ceiling, no doubt one which was formerly employed in the loading and unloading of cargo. She was naked now, and shivering in the cool air. Her head was bowed. 

She'd tried to get away, in those brief moments between restraints. She had tried so desperately hard to win her freedom, and yet it hadn't done her any good at all. 

They told her to stand, as soon as the cries of pain subsided into whimpers. She thought about her response for long moments; wondering if she could use to her advantage this brief moment of freedom from her restraints, and, if so, the best way in which to do so. Decided the best thing for now was a show of obedience. She got to her feet, shakily, holding onto the chair for support. She looked at her tormentors. The Cylons were grinning at her, watching her laboured movements with delighted expressions. 

"Feeling a bit stiff there, Starbuck? Not looking your usual bouncy self today!"

The mockery rolled over her. She tried not to let it penetrate her armour. It didn't matter. What mattered was getting out of here.

They were fiddling with a rope and pulley mechanism in the middle of the room. Starbuck knew it was for her. She swallowed. Knew there was no chance she'd be able to get to the door, unlock it and get help before they caught her. But she also knew that she had to try. They weren't looking at her, arguing and squabbling over the length of the rope. She let go of the chair back, testing her balance. Shaky. Doesn't matter. Try. She took a hesitant step towards the hatch, then another. Miracles happen. If you don't try you'll never know. You have to try. Try to be quiet, don't make a sound. One foot in front of the other. She was half way there now. Beginning to hope against hope, despite herself. She was concentrating so hard on keeping her balance, keeping her silence, that she didn't notice that the room had fallen quiet behind her. Didn't notice that the cats had spotted the escaping mouse until a throat was cleared behind her. 

"Ahem. Starbuck?"

*Frak. Keep going. Nothing to lose now. She reached the hatch and lurched heavily against it as her tenuous grip on her balance gave out. The wheel. Open the hatch, at least, get it open so you can get out at least one scream, even if that's all you can do. She clutched at it, and let out a high, wavering scream of pain. *Frak, that hurt so much... She'd forgotten about her broken, tortured fingers. The pain threatened to overwhelm her. She whimpered, seeing black dots before her eyes. She held her hands protectively to her chest. She still couldn't quite believe that this had happened to her, that these horrible women had actually broken all of her fingers. The sight of the crooked, swollen digits sickened her every time she looked at them. 

Come on. Concentrate. Don't look behind you, you don't want to see what they're doing, how close they are. The hatch. The wheel. Whimpering, she put out her hands once again to grasp it. She sensed a presence close behind her, felt breath on her neck. A soft laugh in her ear. She knew now that there was no hope, that there'd never been any hope, not really. She tried one last time to turn the wheel, to open the hatch. Tears slid down her face as she realised she physically couldn't do it. Her broken hands refused to obey her, even as she tried to force them into action. No use. She gave a sob. Her body was being broken apart, piece by painful piece. 

"Going somewhere, Starbuck?"

Right behind her. She stopped moving, let her hands fall away from the hatch, let them hang by her sides in defeat. She wasn't even that surprised; had known deep down that this wouldn't work. They'd never let her go like this. 

"Come along, Captain. We're ready for you now".

A hand fell lightly on her shoulder, turned her. She moved obediently as she was led back to the centre of the room, her head down. Tory tsked disapprovingly as she reached her, but made no other reference to her abortive escape attempt. It was too pitiful to merit comment. 

"Take off your clothes".

Starbuck moved to obey, her only thought right then to avoid further pain. She stopped as her swollen hands met the fabric of her pants. If she couldn't turn a wheel there was no way she could manage buttons, zips. She spoke quietly, still looking at the floor. 

"I don't think I can. I'm sorry".

Mocking exasperated sighs. "Mopping up after you, teaching you to share with others.. do I really have to do everything for you, Captain?" Laughter. 

Hands took hold of her, firmly but gently. Unsnapped fastenings; helped her remove her clothing, supported her as she stepped out of her pants, pulled the tanks over her head. She felt like all of a sudden all of the resistance had drained out of her, that she had nothing left. Even her own nakedness didn't bother her. They'd already completely and utterly claimed every inch of her body, rejected her pathetic claims of ownership and marked it as theirs through the careful, considered application of calculated, well crafted pain. 

Ellen took her hands in her own, held them loosely. She didn't squeeze, didn't apply pressure, and yet the threat was there, implicit. *Move and I'll hurt you. 

Starbuck didn't move. Kept her head down, unresisting. The cold hands actually offered a cool relief to the burning, throbbing agony of her tortured fingers. Tory buckled her quickly and efficiently into the set of wrist restraints hanging from the rope, checked their security. She nodded to Ellen, and the XO's wife moved to the switch by the wall. She set the pulley in motion and Starbuck felt her arms inexorably begin to rise towards the ceiling.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starbuck's choice

"So, Captain. Have you had a change of heart overnight? Do you have anything worthwhile to say to me?" 

Ellen circled her, flexing the bull whip. Kara swallowed. This was a nightmare. Had to be. This was just too awful to be real. She shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in her toes by taking her body weight onto one foot at a time. 

She had been thinking, during the long hours of pain. When she was left alone *to think, she realised what she'd known from the start, really - that 'I don't know' wasn't the answer that was going to get her out of here. So she decided to give them her story instead, in the hopes that it would interest them and distract them, with its talk of prophecy and destiny. Cylons loved that shit, she knew that from Leoben. Who knew, maybe that was even what they wanted, although it wasn't a direct answer to any of their questions. Why hadn't she told them yesterday? She didn't know, but guessed that she'd been too distracted, terrified by the situation in which she found herself and by the torment being inflicted upon her. But now, having had time to think, she licked her cracked lips and spoke. 

"I think the song is connected somehow with what happened to me. That's why I can't get it out of my head. I think it's got something to do with the destiny Leoben told me about.."

The head of the whip prodded into her lower back, just above the cleft of her buttocks. 

"Go on". The prodding continued, insistent rhythmic pressure poking into the meaty flesh of her ass cheeks. She squirmed at the slight pain but tried to hold still. 

She told her torturers everything she could remember about what Leoben had said, in his various guises, about what the hybrid had told her when it reached out for her, touched her face and smiled. She told them about the mandala, and about her visions of her mother, and about her supposed death. This part she related mostly from Lee's account of what he'd seen- she lied and told Ellen that she didn't remember the incident herself, didn't know what had happened or how it was that she reappeared unscathed, months later. She did remember, now - but that was too much to share, especially not with a pair of psycho Cylon bitches who were torturing her for the information. They stood behind her, silent as she talked. As she backtracked to include detail on what had happened on Caprica, Tory appeared to lose patience. 

"Get to the frakking point, will you! I'm not here to listen to the frakking Kara Thrace, This-Is-Your-Life biography special! God, we hear enough about you on this damned ship as it is!" She laughed bitterly, moving up behind Starbuck and kicking her legs savagely apart. 

"Spread them". 

Starbuck did so, gasping as the movement caused most of her weight to transfer to her wrists. Tory thrust a knee up into her cleft, causing her to cry out sharply, twisting her legs together to try and ease the pain. 

"I didn't tell you to move, bitch". She felt her head pulled back by her hair, heard the hiss in her ear. "Keep those dirty human thighs spread for me, you little slut". 

"Please..." she gasped, the pain almost more than she could bear. 

"NOW!!" The barked order made her jump. She moaned in fear. 

Shaking, Starbuck forced herself to obey, although her whole body and all her instincts screamed at her to keep her legs crossed, to protect her vulnerable centre. Starbuck saw movement before her and looked up to see Ellen shaking her head in mock disapproval. 

"Oh, Tory. And we were just getting to the good stuff. I do hope you're not going to ruin our dear Captain's train of thought". 

The Cylon laughed. "No, I don't think so. I'm just going to encourage her to keep on track, because we don't have all day. What happened on Caprica isn't relevant to what's happening now, and she knows it. She's trying to fudge us". 

Tory's breathing was harsher now on Starbuck's neck as she maintained eye contact with Ellen. Finally the older woman raised her hands slightly in a 'go ahead' gesture and stepped back, smiling. 

"But it *is relevant!!" Starbuck said, sounding inexplicably pissed off. "Sam wouldn't even *be here if I hadn't found him on Caprica!"

"Oh, yes, of course". Tory's voice dripped sarcasm. "And now we're back to you, how the wonderful Starbuck singlehandedly discovered and rescued one of the Final Five. Bit of a theme developing here, wouldn't you say, Captain?" 

She brought her knee up sharply once more, deep into the defenceless wedge between the pilot's legs, striking her from her clit back to her asshole all at once. Starbuck grunted with the shocking all-at-once pain of it, but managed somehow to keep in her scream. 

"Maybe this lesson isn't so much about keeping you on track, bitch, but more about teaching you not to be so self-centred.."

Starbuck moaned as the agony continued to pulse between her legs. She fought the urge to cross them with everything she had. In front of her, Ellen laughed. 

"She's learning, Tory. Your methods seem to be proving very effective". 

Tory laughed, a sadistic, satisfied sound. "Indeed. So. Three more, I think, and then we can return to this illuminating tale. Hopefully less focused on the Starbuck Show, this time".

Starbuck cried out in her mind, although her body stayed silent. Her own tale was all she had to tell. She didn't have anything else to offer.. But part of her knew that her tormentors knew this full well, that all of this was merely part of the game. That tormenting her was in fact the end goal, not the means towards achieving it. Still, she had no choice. Had to participate in this excruciating charade, whether she liked it or not. She swallowed her pain and her objections as one, and held herself still. 

The knee returned, once, twice, three times, in quick succession. Starbuck held herself still by a supreme effort of will, managing to do so only because of Tory's threat, spat cruelly into her ear, that every time she moved she would earn herself another blow. She was crying silently at the end of it, her face screwed up to fight the pain, by the time Tory finally released her grip on her hips and moved away. She moved to join Ellen and they looked together in satisfaction at their hanging victim, sobbing silently, face red and hair hanging in her eyes. 

"Lovely job. Isn't that just a beautiful sight?"

***

She continued with her story. She had no choice. She told them of finding her own corpse on the desolated landscape of the nuked Earth, of her visions afterwards and her realisations of what it must mean. She spoke of her continued fascination with the mysterious song. She did not speak of the child Hera and her drawing of the notes - that might put her in danger. Some part of her was still thinking clearly even as her ordeal continued. Tory circled her with Ellen's bull whip, giving her an encouraging lash from time to time. When she finally stuttered into silence, ending lamely with the oft-repeated declaration that she really didn't know what it all meant, that she was as much in the dark as they were, there was a long silence. Ellen broke it.

"So. At the end of the Great Starbuck Show, the Parade of the Performing Pilot, we're still no closer to understanding the truth behind all this. And you're keeping things back, Captain. Don't think I don't know that. I've interrogated many, *many people over the years, and I know how to tell when they're leaving things out. In your case, you close your eyes and look away. It's pretty basic stuff, Starbuck. Did you think you could fool us? Did you really?"

She stood and approached the hanging officer. "It was a pretty dumb thing to do, Captain". She held her hand out, still holding Starbuck's gaze with her own. Tory handed her the whip in silence. The bay was very quiet, seemed to be holding its breath. 

Ellen stroked Kara's cheek lightly. "Remember, you brought this on yourself. This was your choice.. you bought this and now you're going to pay for it". She stepped back and unleashed the full force of the whip upon Starbuck's defenceless buttocks. The thing curled round her body, creating an instant line of burning fire on her ass and around her waist. The crack was very loud in the quiet bay, and Starbuck screamed.

After the first few blows, Ellen stopped, visibly annoyed at the noise her victim was making. The gag was retrieved from the dirty puddle in which it lay and jammed back into the pilot's mouth. After that there were no further interruptions, and Ellen swung the bull whip again and again at her helpless, twitching body. Both women thrilled to the sounds of pain and muffled pleading issuing from their victim; both women delighted in ignoring them. They beat her, one taking over the whip when the other tired, until the human swung unconscious and bleeding from its wrists. They left it hanging there, a blonde vision of subjugation and helplessness, while they broke for a well-earned lunch. 

***

When Kara next woke and became aware of her surroundings, her first movement was to tip her head backwards as far as it would go. She let out a long stifled cry of pain and utter suffering that seemed to come from the very depths of what was left of her battered soul. She was back in the chair again. 

***

That evening seemed to stretch on forever, every second seeming to take an eternity to pass. The knives worked slowly and painstakingly, carving pretty, intricate patterns over her breasts, her arms, her chest, her throat. It was an excruciating torment which built and built until every inch of her exposed flesh was screaming in agony. Every inch of her seemed to be pulsing with bright shards of pain. She sobbed and writhed and yammered uselessly. Pain was her world; there was nothing else. She couldn't remember a time before pain, didn't know anymore if there ever had been anything other than this, anything before this. She cried out again and again, over and over and over again until she had no voice left to cry out with. 

As the jets were turned onto her helpless semiconscious body, to rouse her so that the torment could continue, spraying the vomit and the blood from her body and washing the very essence of her drop by drop into the drain in the floor, Kara found herself wishing for the first time that she was dead.

***

The next morning, although she didn't know it by then, all sense of time having left her, she came groggily back to her senses, feeling more like a collection of tortured body parts held together by pain than like a human being. She coughed weakly and moved slightly in her chains. She managed to force her eyelids open, wondering on some lower level why she was bothering to try, only something deep within her forcing her to carry on. 

Tory and Ellen sat before her on chairs of their own. They seemed to be watching her, and she got the impression that they'd been doing so for some time. She looked at them, breathing shallowly, feeling more dead than alive. It didn't seem to matter any more what happened next. Whatever happened now, even if by some miracle they allowed her to go free, she knew that she'd be forever changed by her ordeal. She knew that she'd never again be what she had been. 

"Ahh, Captain. You're back with us. I'm glad. You have a very important choice to make". Ellen bent forwards, elbows on knees, studying her. "Our time together is almost up. You've provided us with much useful, enlightening information, although not, regrettably, the answers we sought. I find myself wondering if perhaps, in truth, you do not know those answers". 

Starbuck felt a faint, distant spark of hope, one which was fanned into a faint flickering flame as the Cylon continued. 

"Now, of course, the question of our next step remains. Do we force the others of the Five to take the baseship and jump away? If we do that, we could leave you here, like this, for your friends to find. I wonder, however, how.. *changed you'd be, following your little experience here with us". She rose and moved towards the pilot, holding the knife casually in her left hand. It glinted in the dim light. Fingers caressed her face. Starbuck whimpered. 

With the next words Ellen spoke, the little flame of hope flickered and went out forever. 

"But, I think not. That isn't one of your options, I'm afraid. You may decide to come with us, when we jump away..." 

Starbuck shivered and shook her head in vigorous albeit weakened denial.

"Oh, but don't make up your mind too quickly, Starbuck!! If you choose to join us, and you may yet decide to do so, you know already what to expect. We could carry on your.. *debriefing, at our leisure. No time constraints then, and many more.. *tools, to be put to use. How would you like that, hmmm?" The fingers tightened on her chin. Starbuck started crying quietly. 

"Calm yourself, Captain". Ellen traced the knife along the line of her jaw, drawing a thin line of blood. "It's that, or it's this... the knife, right now. A quick and merciful end to your suffering".

Kara saw flashbacks in her mind of her Galactica family as she wept quietly in her chains. As she pondered her impossible choice. She thought back to the question she'd asked herself back at the start of this hell - did these bitches care about answers, or was the pain the true end result? She thought she had her own answer, now. The answers didn't matter, had never mattered. Somehow, she'd set herself up as the victim she'd striven since childhood never to be again. Somehow she'd unknowingly sent out vibes.. *take me.. *hurt me.. *punish me for being who I am.. And the message had been received, picked up loud and clear by two millennia-old Cylon predators. Two predators to whom the infliction of pain upon the human race was an end in itself, the only end, and which was the only answer they would ever need. 

"They may find you, once they realise that you're missing and where you must have gone, they'll try to get you back, of that I'm sure. They might find you.. and then again, they might not. So, the choice lies before you". She put her finger to one of Starbuck's tears and brought it to her lips, savouring the taste of pain and hopelessness on her tongue. 

"So, it's up to you to decide whether to take this one last chance at rescue, knowing that it is your last and that there won't be another. Or, you may ask me to put an end to your suffering now. Because once you're aboard my ship, and if, *if, Adama doesn't find you, know this - there will *never be an end".

The knife traced the tear track down her cheek, opening a thin line of red that burned like a fire. The Cylon stared into her eyes, serious and intent. 

"Choose, Captain".


End file.
